


Coming Home to Something Better

by aquila_may



Series: Meet Cutes (Mostly Not) [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mycroft's Cake, Mystrade Monday, Neighbours, Pre-Relationship, and he lost it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:41:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25819012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquila_may/pseuds/aquila_may
Summary: Mycroft and Greg had been neighbours for two years but rarely spoke to each other. Until the day Mycroft's cake disappeared and Greg was responsible for it.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Series: Meet Cutes (Mostly Not) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1873330
Comments: 5
Kudos: 75





	Coming Home to Something Better

“I have to inform you that excuses won’t get you out of this situation”

“It’s going to take another two weeks-”

“I’m willing to wait for it.”

Greg stepped back from where he had been listening to Mycroft’s conversation with the delivery boy. The delivery boy who was supposed to send a custom made cake to Mycroft last month, but the cake had mysteriously disappeared. Only it hadn’t actually vanished into thin air. Greg had seen the cake on Mycroft’s doorstep and he knew that the latter was away on a business trip, prompting him to take it and refrigerate it so it doesn’t get mouldy. But he forgot all about it.

“Do not take me for a fool. I can wait but it must be here by next week” Mycroft’s voice dipped low, a threat hanging in the air.

Greg could feel his heart thudding with nervousness. Fast walking past the two, he unlocked his door and made a beeline towards the kitchen. He grabbed the box of cake, his heart sinking when he realized that it was a bit soggy. Opening it only confirmed his worst fear. Black fluffy spots had already emerged around the cake.

_Well fuck._

* * *

Mycroft strode towards the lift at a punishing pace. This as well as getting off work early had be in effort to catch someone in the act. Who, precisely, he didn’t know, but that mysterious person had been leaving cakes in front of his doorstep everyday for a week now. The first time it showed up was right after his confrontation with the delivery boy. He had thought it was the bakery’s way of apologizing, but it went on for days. Chocolate cakes, fruit cakes, different types of cheesecake. _Hell,_ there was even cream puffs included.

Stabbing the buttons of the lift, he contemplated what to do if he caught that person. On one hand, he wanted to tell them off, to stop bothering him with baked goods. But a small part of him wished for that person to continue doing it. He couldn’t deny that those gifts were the highlights of his day, getting him through work faster than ever.

There was also the question of the notes left on the boxes, scribbled in a hurry but no less precious to him. They range from ‘hope you like the cake’ to ‘eat cake, enjoy your evening’, earning a small private smile from the Iceman.

The lift 'pinged' and Mycroft stepped out, turning the corner on his hallway. His footsteps falter in shock as his eyes register the scene before him. Greg was kneeling on the ground, sticking a post it note on the box of cake, his brows scrunched in concentration.

Gregory, his neighbour of two years and the man in his dreams for nearly as long. When they first met, he was instantly blinded by his bright smile and drawn in by his warm personality. Gregory had been friendly, asking him over for dinner and drinks, but Mycroft knowing in that split second that he was going to fall hard, declined. They had barely interacted after that, Mycroft keeping his distance, opting to just admire him from far.

Until now, it seemed.

“Gregory?”

Greg’s eyes widened as he abruptly stood up. “Uh…Mycroft, I can explain”

Mycroft’s heart bloomed as he realized the implications of the situation. Just maybe... “You were the ones leaving the cakes for me?”

“Yeah, but,” Greg ran a hand through his hair.

“That’s very-” “I’m sorry I took your cake” they said at the same time.

“Pardon me?” Mycroft felt his heart drop, I knew it was too good to be true. He didn’t even like me and he took my cake. “You ate my cake?” his icy voice masking the hurt inside.

“Wait, no. I didn’t eat it”

“Then pray tell, what did you do to my cake?”

“I took it in because you were on a business trip and kinda maybe forgot about it?” Greg winced, hoping not to be on the receiving end of his infamous wrath.

“You forgot for a month? What-” Mycroft stopped as something nagged at him. “How did you know I was away on business?”

“I... noticed there’s no jazz music at night anymore. And you weren’t in front of your favourite cafe when I was walking to work. I also may have been stalking your usual restaurant to catch a glimpse of you. And you…you weren’t here anymore.”.

Mycroft registered the information as butterflies danced in his stomach, swooping and twirling in excitement. “Would you like to come inside and share this cake? I’d like you too” Mycroft asked, a tentative smile gracing his lips.

“Sure” Greg grinned at him, brown eyes twinkling.

* * *

Mycroft moaned as he gripped at his bedsheets, back arching in pleasure. He stretched his neck, exposing the column of his throat to Greg’s hungry kisses. Desire burned in his veins, even as he had had Gregory in him a mere hour ago.

“Gregory, please…” Mycroft whined, all reservations thrown to the wind. Greg smirked as he made his way down his lover’s body, littering bites and kisses along the way. He was tempted to take a detour and map every freckle on his skin but Mycroft was already bucking his hips upwards.

“Patience, gorgeous” Greg whispered, breath warm over Mycroft’s cock as held down his hips. “Such a waste of good frosting,y ‘know? But you begged so prettily for it”. Greg scooped up the frosting on the cake and wrapped his hand around Mycroft, jerking him hard and fast. Deeming him ready, Greg sank down on Mycroft, swallowing his cock tortuously slow, taking him inch by inch, the sweet frosting mixing with Mycroft’s unique taste, savouring the burst of flavours on his tongue. Lost in the throes of pleasure, the ginger whimpered as he gripped Gregory’s hair, urging him to go faster.

Coming home to cake was great but now he had something better.


End file.
